Dies Irae
by Ileana Brannagh
Summary: At Death's Blade Rewritten. The Rocket Regime is not only merciless to those, who defy them. Only a few people have the courage to rebel against it but will they be able to overthrow it whilst being plagued by their own sins and desires? Contestshipping
1. Der Anfang

**Summary:** Ten years after the original storyline Team Rocket is the governing power of the Pokemon World. The Rocket Regime is merciless and cruel not even to those who haven't accepted them but to everybody else. Only a few people have the courage to do something against the totalitarian Regime but will they succeed in overthrowing it when they are plagued by their own unforgivable sins?

**Author's Note (**from 27th of April**):**Well, the only thing I have to add is that some characters might be OOC since this story takes place ten years after the whole events of Pokémon and time changes people. I also changed this a bit and caught a few (actually more than a few mistakes) but I'm not sure if I have found every mistake.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Pokémon.

* * *

**Chapter One**

**Der Anfang**

All he could do in the moment was running. His legs protested with soaring pain. But he kept running. He would feel more pain if he were to be caught.

The wind was whipping his face brutally. He blinked furiously, trying to keep the moistness of his eyes. His heart was beating rapidly. His breaths were shallow and flat. His body filled with adrenalin. His lungs burned from the overexertion. Every intake of breath ached. Beads of sweat poured down from his temples.

He didn't care.

The sounds of several steps came nearer. He didn't dare to turn around. He didn't dare to look at his right. He didn't dare to look at his left. He looked only straight ahead. The ambiguous feeling of fear his only companion.

A bang echoed through the forest. A bullet grazed his cheek. It bled. It burnt.

He didn't care.

He was gasping. He tried to distance himself from _them_ more.

Another bang resounded.

He fell to the ground. His leg had been hit. It hurt. He did not care. His body did care. White-hot pain shot through his body. He pushed himself up. He fell down again. An outcry of pain was heard. He closed his eyes. He hissed out a curse. He opened his eyes. He dragged himself on the dirty ground. It was pathetic and hopeless.

He didn't care. He didn't want to die. After seven years. He didn't want to end his life.

A pursuer said something. He snorted. He was kicked in his abdomen. He groaned out. _They _taunted him. _They_ teased him. _They_ humiliated him. He did not care. He was still alive. _They_ kicked him again. And again. And again. _They_ kicked him countless times.

One of them spoke to him. _His _voice was sneering. He did not hear. Another one spoke to him. Or was it the same? He did not care. _They _looked all the same. Uniforms black as death. Voices deep as hell. Weapons expensive as heaven.

_They_ forced him up. His head was bent down. The ground was fascinating. They weren't. One made him look up. But he didn't see. He only looked. His eyes were dull. Dull green.

_They_ were irritated. He did not care. He was stupefied. _They_ were angry. Still, he did not care. He was stupid. He was hopeless.

_They_ were furious.

He found himself starting to care. His senses were coming back. His will of life was returning. _They_ were readying their guns. He did care. Eyes shot open. Once again. The pain in his leg forgotten.

He punched one of them. Took his gun. Shot another one. Shot the next one. And the other one. The depot was empty. He cussed. One was still standing. _He_ had a gun. His gun was useless.

A bullet hit his shoulder. He fell back. It hurt. And he did care. His face contorted with terror. The other smirked.

Sadist.

He shot him again. His uninjured leg was hit.

He was going to die. He was going to die! He was going to die?

He didn't want to. But he would. He was powerless. He was weak. Pathetic. Defenceless. Half-dead.

He resigned himself to Death. Maybe it wasn't so bad. Maybe he would come to heaven. He looked in his murderer-to-be's eyes.

Soulless. Black. Merciless.

He closed his eyes. Awaited the final blow. It took long. Too long.

A bang resounded.

He was in pure agony. But he was alive. He opened his eyes. His murderer-to-be was lying on the ground. Dead?

He was confused. He was happy. He was in pain.

Someone was there. A woman.

Maybe an angel. But angels were not clad in black. But he liked black better than white. Maybe she was an Angel of Death? She kneeled beside him. He didn't see what she did. For he surrendered himself to blissful oblivion. He was unconscious.

* * *

The silver beams of the full moon shone through the nearly-ragged curtains illuminating the small room eerily. The door to the room appeared as if it consisted of a heavy metal and made the room almost look like a prison cell. It was barely furnished. Something akin to a drawer was on the right wall, a small filthy carpet covered only a little part of the cold floor, and a commode was right next to the bed, which was the only source of comfort for the one who was sleeping on it.

He was covered in bandages and was tossing and turning in his sleep as if plagued by a nightmare. If someone had been present in the room, he or she would have heard the injured men mumbling incoherently. Although the content of his sentences could have been barely understood, anyone would have immediately heard the fear in his voice.

The sleeper cried out faintly and as if on cue someone opened the door.

In stepped a girl, who was approximately about twenty years of age. Her cautious blue eyes scanned the room first and eventually looked at the male figure on the bed. She walked up to his side and shook him gently avoiding to touch a wound. He still spoke in his sleep and did not take any notice of the shaking. The woman shook him with a bit more force.

"Wake up," she said softly.

He opened his eyes, shut them and reopened them. Upon seeing the woman he flinched away his green eyes wide. He tried to heave himself up to a sitting position but agony invaded his body and he fell back into the white pillow with a groan. His eyes were still fixated on the supposed enemy, who studied him with a partly amused and a partly irritated glance.

"Don't worry,"she began her voice calm, "I don't belong to the ones who did this to you," she spoke further and pointed to his injured shoulder.

"Who are you?" the young man spoke and coughed immediately after.

His throat ached from the disuse of it he continued to speak nevertheless, "And where am I?"

"You are in a safe place," she merely replied and didn't enlighten him further, "I am someone, who lives here since Team Rocket..."

She didn't finish her sentence; there was no need to, he knew exactly what she meant.

He tried to frown as much at her as it was possible in his current condition.

"Why won't you say me your name?" he asked.

"We don't know if we can trust you yet," she replied, "tell me how you managed to escape."

"I don't quite remember," he responded, "Everything seems so blurry. I only remember fragments."

He looked at the woman closer, she did not look threatening. He could only think of how the stoic face didn't suit her overall appearance. She was dressed rather fancily with a lot of colour and frills.

"I will get a doctor. I will be right back," she said and went out of the room closing the door behind her.

An eerie silence governed the small room once again. He let his eyes wander over every aspect of the room. A small amount of relief filled him upon seeing that nothing resembled his old _room_. He also felt rather comfortable in the darkness.

The door opened again and the woman from before entered with an elderly man, who was probably in his sixties. The doctor switched the light on, the young man flinched involuntarily and had to clench his eyes tightly.

"Ah, so you are the lucky young man," the doctor began with a smile on his face, "I will have to change your bandages, I cannot guarantee you anything painless," he said sounding regretful.

Receiving only a nod the doctor approached his patient and began to change the bandages.

The young man only seemed to study the ceiling with unseeing eyes, once in a time his breath hitched when the doctor involuntarily hurt him. He didn't see nor feel the glance the other occupant of the room gave him. Her eyes were filled with pity and her once stoic facial expression crumbled.

"I must say you heal pretty well," the doctor pulled both of them out of their reverie, "You have been hit by three bullets and you manage to recover that well. It is almost - dare I say - inhumane. You only need a bit more rest and it won't take long until you can walk," he explained smiling slightly, "Oh, by the way I am Samuel Oak."

"But Professor," the woman gasped, "it is strictly forbidden to tell our names to a stranger."

The smile on Professor Oak's face fell.

"I must correct you. We are not allowed to introduce ourselves to possible _Rockets_. And what did she say? She said he had been followed by four Rocket Grunts and that he," Prof Oak pointed with his thumb to his patient, who seemed slightly curious about their conversation, "was the one who... took out three of _them_. Do you really believe he belongs to _them_?"

"Well, I actually do not believe that he belongs to the _Rockets_ but I am not sure either. Maybe it was all initiated in order to fool us. I would not put sacrificing the low level members past _them_ professor," she answered back heatedly.

The Professor sighed, "How could they have known that she would be there. She just picked the route, where she found him, randomly."

"Yes, but...but," not knowing what else to say she heaved a much heavier sigh than Professor Oak and muttered something the patient couldn't make out. Now he was truly interested in the things they talked about.

They were certainly not members of Team Rocket. That was good. But who was _She_, the one who obviously saved him from being shot to death? The one whom he thought - in his delusional state - to be his Angel of Death? And where was he? This certainly was not a hospital room and the one who examined him was apparently not a real doctor. Why would have the woman called him Professor instead?

"Might as well introduce myself then," the young woman mumbled for everyone to hear and put on a ridiculously bright smile.

"Hello, lucky one, my name is Dawn," she introduced herself rather cheerily and held her hand out to shake his.

Before he could introduce himself as well the Professor cleared his throat and caught the attention of the woman, Dawn.

"You know that he is unable to heave his arm right now without feeling pain, Dawn?" Professor Oak asked rhetorically.

"Oops, my bad," she said sheepishly and turned away from the professor to look at him with an apologetic smile.

He couldn't quite return her cheerful antics neither did he have the will to, so he only managed a wry smile. It was surprising how his cheeks hurt from the small movement. He had been entirely too deprived from social interaction that he even had unlearned how to smile properly.

"It is nice to meet you," he said without telling them his own name.

"Uh, excuse me?" Dawn spoke a bit uncertainly, "But what is your name?"

He was astonished how the stoic and cautious young woman from before turned into such a cheerful and social girl.

"My name?" he asked dubiously.

No, he hadn't forgotten his name but he hadn't been addressed by his name nor had he been asked for his name for a long time. He could not quite remember what _they_ had called him but it was far from his real name.

"Eh, yes your name," Dawn was surely becoming irritated by him and her smile was faltering.

"My name…," he began and the young woman leaned slightly in to hear him better, since he was talking very quietly.

"Yes?" spoke Dawn anticipating his voice like a present.

"My name is...Drew."

* * *

Please read and review.


	2. Schuld

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Pokémon

* * *

**Chapter two**

**Schuld**

Tick tock, tick tock, tick tock...

The constant and irritating ticking of the grandfather clock in a far corner of the richly furnished room was the only sound the occupant of said room could hear at the moment beside his soft and even breathing. It was unusual for him to be so quiet and calm. Usually, he would scream until his throat ached and would pound his already bruised fists against the expensive mahogany door until it would be drenched with his blood.

Tick tock, tick tock, tick tock...

Only five minutes. He would rest only five minutes. After those five minutes he would resume the screaming and pounding.

With a quiet hiss he gently stroked his bloodied knuckles.

Tick tock, tick tock, tick tock...

Four minutes were left...

Maybe he should just use his legs and feet this time.

He couldn't stand this feeling. The feeling of uselessness. He heaved himself up a little from the large bed, in which three people could have slept comfortably together, and brought himself into a sitting position.

Yes, he would feel better if he were to hit that sickeningly, beautifully-made door. Deep down, he knew - but was far away from admitting it - that hitting and kicking a door was futile and that it accomplished nothing useful. Even if he were sometime be able to break the door open, he could never escape from a place, which was guarded in such a secure manner.

But...he felt better. He didn't feel as useless when he was lying down on the comfortable bed with its sheets made of silk.The temptation to just lie down and sleep was great but he would only do it in those five minutes.

He did not know how the others were faring but he was almost completely certain that they hadn't the luxury of such a bed. It would be unfair of him to make use of the bed if the others were forced to live under much different conditions.

He let his dark eyes wander around the room, which he - despite its lavish decoration and beautiful furniture - came to loathe as much as the person, who so willingly gave it to him...no, _forced it_ onto him.

On the small table, which was in the centre of three dark red couches, his dinner had been placed upon it by a maid. He hadn't touched even one bit of it. He was hungry, oh, he was very hungry but he would rather die than eat something offered by that man. He felt bad enough for making even the least use of the bed in his five minutes of calmness. The food had to be delicious but he had successfully and stubbornly resisted the wonderful smell yet.

Tick tock, tick tock, tick tock...

Three minutes left..

When he touched something in the room it was most often with the intention of kicking, pounding or flinging it across the room. The door was always his prime target. Many vases and chairs had already suffered from his urge to demolish almost everything.

He was given everything one needed to live (comfortably) in this room. He had a huge bed, a large wardrobe with different set of clothes all in his size, a bathroom with an immensely broad bathtub, a small fridge, which was filled with many refreshing beverages and juices as well as some other delicacies. Despite the delicious food, he had never willingly ate anything of it. He had lost a lot of weight but it had been worth it.

At least that was what he would always chant in his head like a mantra.

That man, of course, had noticed his loss of weight and ordered his men to watch over his meals. Since he still refused the food - another way of his rebelling - this always resulted with being force-fed. He would always scream, kick and hit the men all at the same time with his stubbornness never wavering. They would tie his down, one would force very roughly his mouth open whilst another one would try to give him a spoon full of soup. After a long time he his resistance would lessen. At first he hadn't known why but he had come to the conclusion that there had to be something in the meals that made him sleepy and weak, something like drugs.

After the force-feeding they would untie him, although they did it only begrudgingly so for their superior wanted him to be treated well.

Another tap from him.

Then they would put him onto the bed quite unceremoniously. He would try to lie there for only five minutes.

After the five minutes he would get up and scream something incoherent and senseless. He would sluggishly walk to the door and pound it.

Tick tock, tick tock, tick tock...

Two minutes left...

He stood up. He was shaky on his feet. Leaning slightly at the wall he balanced himself. He stretched himself and suppressed a yawn. He had to get up from the bed or else he would lose the fight and give in to a sweet, sinful sleep as he had done so only a few times.

Resisting the urge to get on the bed again, he strode across the room. The carpet beneath his shoes made soft noises and he could only wish himself at the moment enough dirt under his soles to stain the flawless carpet. Unfortunately, his shoes were quite clean.

He passed the shelves, which were full with books. Another trap. That man had many traps and it became more and more difficult for him not to fall into one. Fortunately, this trap was rather lame. He had never been much of a literate person. he had never liked learning by reading boring books, he liked learning by experiencing everything first hand.

He had been offered so much by him. But he had refused every offer. With each offer he was being made it became always harder to resist. He feared that one day, there would be an offer he would be unable to say no to.

He shook his head furiously. No, they were not offers, thy were finely-set traps. He had to be careful. That man never did anything out of kindness.

He snorted...Kindness and _him_. The term 'kind' and him could hardly be mentioned in one sentence without being ironic.

Kindness and him were at odds. Like fire and water, like summer and winter, like black and white.

He was only kind, no...he only _acted_ in a kind manner when he had an ulterior motive.

Tick tock, tick tock, tick tock...

One minute left...

He approached the door with malicious satisfaction as he noticed how damaged it already was. The pain in his bleeding knuckles was instantly forgotten, when he saw the pitiable condition of the wood. He cracked his knuckles in anticipation of what was to come and ignored the pain almost naturally.

He watched the clock face intensely. This was the only object he was grateful for being in the room despite the irritating noises of it.

Tick tock, tick tock, tick tock

His eyes were only focused on the second hand as it swept over the Roman numbers.

Tick tock, tick tock, tick tock...

He probably had already gone mad because of the sound.

Tick tock, tick tock, tick tock...

He knew that as soon as he would hit the door, someone would arrive swiftly.

Tick tock,

He raised his fist.

Tick tock,

He would fight everyone, who would try to stop him.

Tick tock...

His fist connected with the hard door, a few splinters of wood dug into his flesh invading him without him noticing it.

Soon _they_ would arrive trying to restrain him, trying to make him give up, trying to make him fall into his traps, trying to make him lose hope.

He, however, was unknowingly oblivious to the fact that _they_ were slowly and deliberately succeeding.

* * *

Drew was too absorbed with his own thoughts and listening to Dawn's constant talking was the last thing he was doing at the very moment. After she had found out his name she wouldn't stop speaking. Although he would only give non-committal and very short answers, she wouldn't stop asking him anything possible. Dawn was as talkative as she was cheerful.

In regards of all those aspects he should be actually annoyed by her but Drew - in all honesty - wasn't. He didn't show it but he was grateful for her company and the conversation, even if it would be Dawn, who would do most of the talking.

Drew was trying his best to remember what had happened to him while he had been in captivity by Team Rocket. The only event he could recall clearly was how he was running through the dark forest while being followed by several Rocket Grunts.

He remembered how he had been shot in the leg and had fallen down. He could recollect how the Grunts had been hitting him and how they had been ready to kill him. And he could articulately recall how he - out of fear and fury - killed three of them.

This particular memory filled him with some kind of oddity, though it wasn't the very fact that he actually killed a human being but the mere aspect that he had felt nothing and still didn't feel anything at the thought of murdering people. He had just pulled the trigger. There was no guilt, no self-disgust just the feeling of a matter of course. He had been unable to shoot the one, who had almost managed to kill him, not out of a sudden realisation that killing was wrong but simply because the depot had been empty.

"Drew?" he finally registered Dawn's voice. He locked his gaze with hers and found her blue eyes studying him questioningly and accusingly at the same time.

"Oh, sorry I didn't hear you," he said trying to sound apologetic.

Dawn pouted childishly and crossed her arms over her chest, "More like you didn't listen to what I said."

He smiled slightly at her antics, although it felt alien to him to do so. He was still unused to socialise with ordinary people. He probably hadn't smiled for years considering how much effort it took for him to heave the corners of his lips up just slightly.

"I'd just said that your knightess in shining armour wants to visit you," Dawn said forgetting Drew's rudeness from before.

"I see," he merely said, although he had only a vague idea what or who Dawn meant with 'knightess in shining armour'.

Drew looked at the ceiling and didn't say anything further. The same couldn't be said for Dawn, for she started explaining something about someone named Paul. Drew barely registered how Dawn thought him to be absolutely rude and arrogant.

He closed his eyes and listened to the young woman's blabbering with a sense of recognition.

* * *

_"This is where you will be living from now on," the guard said urging Drew into his cell without being violent. The young boy didn't even struggle against the order. He was hurting too much to put up a fight right now. He immediately sat on the bed. He had to admit his cell wasn't as dirty and dark as he had imagined. It appeared to be an ordinary room only with a lack of furniture but the young boy knew better. _

_The room had only a small window, which let just enough light into the disguised cell. _

_"You'll be brought a meal three times per day. You'll have the opportunity to shower; I'll be the one, who will bring you to the showers. Further you're to obey everything you are told or it'll have severe consequences for you," the guard explained._

_Drew couldn't see the guard's face entirely because he wore a black cap over his head so that his eyes were shadowed and unrecognisable. The guard looked like every other member of Team Rocket with the same black uniform. The only difference was that this man didn't appear as bulky as the other male Rockets but it didn't make him more likeable. _

_"I will come again in three hours to bring you your supper," the Rocket said and left shutting and locking the heavy metallic door behind him. _

_Drew sighed heavily and lay down on the bed wincing slightly. They had really beaten him up. He let his gaze wander across the room; there wasn't much in the cell. The only piece of furniture was the bed nothing else; there wasn't a closet, there wasn't a table or a chair. There was, however, something that caught the boy's attention. It was a door made of another material than the locked metallic one._

_He stood up, walked over to the door and opened it. It was just a toilet. Of corse it was a toilet. What else could it have been? Closing the door he slowly laid down on the bed trying to avoid any more pain. _

_Why was Team Rocket now kidnapping people as well? What were their intentions?_

_It had happened during a contest. He had been in the middle of a battle, when a small explosion could be heard. Then all of a sudden several men and women ran into the contest room and threatened the people with their weapons or Pokémon. The situation had escalated very soon and the next thing Drew had known were many screaming people, gunshots and utter chaos. He hadn't really known what to do, he just fought against Team Rocket not with only his Pokémon but hadn't wasted any time to defend himself or others by fighting himself with everything he had. _

_In the end it had proved itself to be futile. His Pokémon had been beaten and had been unable to even stand up since the members of Team Rocket hadn't been exactly merciful to him. Two bulky men, who Drew had been trying to fight, left him battered and bruised. As if a mere thirteen-year-old could have stood a chance against two grown men. _

_Now he was being held captive by Team Rocket and didn't know why. He didn't know where his Pokémon were; he didn't know if they had been taken by Team Rocket as well or if they had managed to get away somehow. _

_He already missed his companions, he just hoped they were alright._

* * *

"So this is _Amon_, Professor Massimiliano?" a clearly older professor than Professor Massimiliano asked hiding his curiosity behind a calm and steady voice.

"Yes. I infused him with the DNA of an irradiated Pokémon. The insertion of the irradiated nucleotides caused a frame shift. In the most cases it results in severe genetic diseases. But in this case the gene product was changed so that it gained a new and abnormal function," Professor Massimiliano replied and pushed his rectangle glasses up.

"Do you know if there are certain characteristics, which are crucial for this kind of mutation?"

The younger professor shook his head, "Unfortunately not. And with the loss of _Vassago_ it will be harder to determine if there is a criterion. I hope _Amon_ wakes up soon. I can barely contain my curiosity," Professor Massimiliano said with a hint of excitement in his voice.

"So you're finished for today? Shall we go then?", Professor Sebastian asked eying the young man through his glasses.

"Yes, of course. Thank you for waiting."

The professors walked out into the silent and deserted halls of the Research Facility. Their steps echoed throughout the empty hallway as they were walking to their respective rooms. The age difference between the two scientists didn't prevent them from forming some kind of friendship. It couldn't be certainly said if they were friends but they surely shared the same interests, although it couldn't possibly be considered difficult for scientist to have some of the same concern.

Professor Massimiliano was very young, still a juvenile; he was of average height and had quite a sophisticated air around him, which was made clearer by his lab coat, which he wore almost constantly, and by his glasses. He was always thought of as a genius. Despite his young age he was well respected by the scientists, who were even forty years his senior.

Professor Sebastian on the other hand was older. He was in his forties and had experienced much in his life. His hair was greying, although his face didn't have any wrinkles to accompany the aging process. He had very sharp features, and he like Prof Massimiliano carried the same sophisticated air around him;the only difference was that Prof Sebastian's appearance and wisdom were primarily formed by experience rather than being born as a pure genius.

Whereas Prof Massimiliano would wear his lab coat almost constantly he could still be sometimes seen without it on but it was _exceptionally_ rare to see Prof Sebastian without his lab coat, actually seeing him outside his laboratory was a very seldom occurrence in itself.

"Oh, I was always meaning to ask," the older scientist began catching the attention of Professor Massimiliano, "how exactly did _Vassago_ die?"

"He had escaped and in order to prevent him from destroying the whole Facility I gave the men the order terminate him."

"Wasn't it possible to just make him immobile?"

"Regrettably this wasn't possible. The decision wasn't easy to make - believe me Professor. He was in rage for some reason and several of our men had fallen victim to him. I saw it with my own eyes, Professor Sebastian, he looked monstrous and ready to kill."

"At least you still have _Gusion _and now _Amon._"

Professor Massimiliano nodded solemnly.

"Yes and maybe we will be able to create more of their kind in the future. It will be a great step for Genetics and imagine what we could all achieve."

The younger Professor halted in front of a wooden door and turned to look at his senior and smiled. "Thank you for accompanying me, Professor Sebastian."

"You are welcome. I hope I will be able to attend one of your experiments. I wish you a good day," Professor Sebastian said and walked away leaving the younger scientist alone.

* * *

"Hey, Drew?" Dawn asked sounding - surprisingly - bored. She was sitting on a chair, which she had immediately gotten into the room after she had decided to spend time with Drew. She was sitting there in manner a slacker would.

"Why won't you tell me anything about you?"

"I already said that I barely remember anything what happened when I was a captive," he responded quietly. Drew himself was used spending his time in loneliness and in total silence, so he wasn't bothered by it but for Dawn on the other hand - being such a sociable and talkative person - it had to be utter torture.

"Well don't you even remember how it was before you were taken by Team Rocket?" Dawn tried once again to start a conversation with him while stretching and yawning at the same time.

Drew thought about it. He didn't have any problems recalling this time of his life; it surely was more pleasant. "I was a Pokémon coordinator--"

"You were?" Dawn interrupted him with excitement in her voice. "You know I was a coordinator too," she continued gesturing animatedly with her arms.

"That's nice", he merely said a bit irritated by her sudden swing in mood.

"What kind of Pokémon did you have?"

Drew's facial expression changed from stoic to saddened. He didn't know about his Pokémon. He had never known anything about his Pokémon since he had been captured and now he felt guilty for being free without knowing how his loyal companions were faring.

Were they in the clutches of Team Rocket or had they ever been in their clutches in the first place or were they even alive? And if they were still alive had they changed much? Had they evolved, had they become stronger? Maybe they were living somewhere in freedom, which he thought of as very doubtful; or maybe tey were dead. He had a strange and inexplicable feeling that the latter case was the more probable one.

"Eh? Drew?" Dawn said and was waving a hand in front of his face. However, she didn't regard him with an irritated glance as she had done the first time when he hadn't answered a question right away but she looked at him with concern or worry, he wasn't really sure.

"Oh, I'm sorry." Drew didn't know how often he had already apologised for spacing out constantly. "My starter Pokémon was Roselia. She was one of my strongest Pokémon and I used her constantly in battles and contests."

"What other Pokémon did you have?"

"Well, there was also Butterfree, Absol, Masquerain and Flygon."

"My first Pokémon was Piplup. At first we really couldn't get along but after a time we became friends quickly." Dawn by now was talking ecstatically about her Pokémon how they evolved, how she met a few of them and how she once saw a weird illusion of a Pokémon she didn't really know.

Drew closed his eyes feeling uneasy again. He hoped dearly she would stop talking about Pokémon. He was already guilty enough and didn't need her to make the feeling more unbearable.

"Where are your Pokémon now?" She just had to ask _that_ question. The question he had hoped he would be able to avoid. He didn't dare to look at her, instead he kept regarding the all-too-familiar ceiling once again. He had no desire to answer her. He didn't want to be seen unworthy of his companions. They had fought for him bravely and he had let himself get captured.

Maybe everything would have come different if he hadn't fought the Rockets. Maybe he should have just run away. The battle had been decided before it had even begun. Team Rocket had had many advantages; they had used a surprise attack, they had been armed, they had had their dangerous Pokémon to assist them. Drew should have known that there couldn't have been any chance to beat Team Rocket but he hadn't - in all his overconfidence - believed it.

"Drew?" The voice of Dawn brought him back to reality and he was really grateful for it this time. "You keep spacing out. Did...did something happen to your Pokémon," she asked for the first time with a bit of hesitancy.

"I...I...it is just that...I haven't seen my Pokémon for nearly seven years..." he stuttered in shame looking away from the young woman.

"Oh. There is no need to worry. You'll surely find them now that you're free," Dawn said determinedly trying to console and encourage Drew.

Unknown to her she made the unbearable feeling of guilt worse. Would he really be able to find them? They could be everywhere, they could have been caught by Team Rocket or they could have faded into nonexistence already. As harsh as it sounded Drew didn't want to find out in the very end that his Pokémon were dead.

"Maybe, I will...," Drew said not sure if he was stating it to himself or to Dawn.

They fell into an uncomfortable silence again and even Dawn didn't seem to want to break it as if fearing she might say something wrong.

Drew didn't have any idea what he would do from now. Should he go and search for his lost companions? But how could he ever find them?

A knock on the door brought Drew back to reality. He saw how Dawn rushed to the door - apparently relieved - and opened it. She squealed like a little girl and hugged someone tightly; Drew would have used his hands to cover his ears in order to block out the noise of Dawn if it wouldn't hurt so much to move. Dawn was talking animatedly to - presumably - another woman, who was speaking in a less enthusiastic way without sounding impolite or rude.

"Drew!" Dawn yelled "Your knightess has arrived."

"You know that the word 'knightess' doesn't even exist," the other woman said and eventually entered the room right after Dawn.

The woman seemed to be about Drew's age and was somehow familiar. She was a bit taller than Dawn with a steady stature. She was dressed in black and seemed to be the concrete opposite of Dawn. Their clothes weren't the only differences between them. They also differed in gesture and facial expression. Dawn was smiling a lot and had a very expressive body language while the other woman seemed to be rather reserved; her smiles were smaller and appeared to be forced.

Did he know her? She appeared familiar but he couldn't place her into a certain memory.

"How is your Beautifly doing? I've heard it was injured pretty badly," Dawn asked with worry.

A Beautifly?

"Beautifly is recovering well. Her injuries weren't anything fatal," the woman replied with a genuine smile this time.

He knew a certain someone with a Beautifly. But it couldn't be! This woman couldn't be her! Maybe he was wrong. Maybe not.

Dawn looked from the woman back at him and smiled. "Drew meet your knightess in shining...eh...black armour," Dawn said earning an exasperated glance from her.

It was her. Or was it not? It was her!

"May."

The woman was already approaching him when he spoke the name as if in a trance. She looked confused for a moment but it didn't last long.

"Oh, I see Dawn has already told you about me," she said and looked at Dawn, who shook her head slightly.

"Then how did you know my name?" the young woman asked dubiously and Drew was now certain that she was May. The manner how she pressed her lips together and the way how her blue eyes widened in confusion was just all too familiar for him and he did something he hadn't done for years. He raised his hand - ignoring the pain - to his hair, flicked it and smirked.

"I would've never thought you would forget me, May," he said in a complete different voice than the one he used to talk with Dawn. This voice was smug and cocky, it sounded overconfident and arrogant.

Dawn regarded him with big bewildered eyes and gasped slightly at the new demeanour of the silent and introverted Drew.

May just stood there, her eyes wider than before, her mouth opened in shock. After regaining her composure she closed her mouth and bit on her lower lip to keep it from...trembling? Her hands were balled into fists and were shaking by her sides.

"Drew?" she spoke her voice full of hope as she stepped nearer to his bed with hesitant gaits. "Is that really you, Drew?"

* * *

**Please read and review!!**


	3. Grau

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Pokémon.

* * *

**Chapter Three **

**Grau**

"Damn it," May growled her fists tightly clenched at her sides as she strode through the forest swiftly. She couldn't believe that her mission had gone so awry!

She had been assigned a mission by her boss to search for the legendary Pokémon Mew on Faraway Island. May with unwavering determination and foolish stubbornness had accepted the task without a question. She had been supposed to ask the Legendary Pokémon Mew for its assistance against Team Rocket and if it should refuse to help, she - at least - had to warn Mew against the criminal organisation (or against the criminal government which would be a better description).

Not too long after agreeing to take the mission, the first problems had already begun to arise. May wanted to take a ferry from Lilycove City to Faraway Island. However, not even one single, petty ship would dock on the island.

She had even asked some fishers, who had refused to ship her to the island and had explained to her that it was cursed. She had spent numerous hours desperately trying to find some way to cross over to the damned island.

After an entire week, after several ghost stories about the island and after several curses at her boss for not giving her further information about Faraway Island, she had met Mr Briney together with his Wingull Peeko again.

"Hey, lass! What're you doing here?" he had asked a bit too cheerfully a very moody May.

May had just turned around and wanted to glare the hell out of the one, who had spoken to her but her deadly scowl had softened immediately as she saw, who it was.

It had been Mr Briney, whom she had met ten years ago together with her friends.

Mr Briney had been staring at her with a bright smile and May had found herself smiling back, which was a very rare occurrence nowadays. Soon they had started to converse and much to May's relief and happiness Mr Briney had readily agreed to take her to Faraway Island but not before telling her one of the notorious ghost stories that revolved around the island.

His story, however, was a bit different from the others. The usual tales were about people, who went there and never came back or about unknown Pokémon, which were supposedly sent by the Devil himself. Mr Briney had not told her a story, which seemed to be copied from a bad horror movie but a story, which seemed to be copied from a bad Science Fiction movie.

He had told her about illegal experiments like cloning Pokémon or how some mad scientists had allegedly tried to make a mixture of two different Pokémon species.

It had really reminded May of a bad Science Fiction movie.

She had nevertheless listened as intently as she could and she had even managed to avoid yawning.

In the end Mr Briney had taken her to Faraway Island on his small ship. May had told him that she would be needed to be picked up in two months. Mr Briney had been surprised and refused to let her roam on the "life-forsaken, dead blot of land" alone and had insisted to come with her. May had to decline, although she had dearly wished for some human company. She could have never risked getting Mr Briney into all this mess too. He, however, was really stubborn and he had immediately told her another _mad-scientist-gone-madder-story. _

He had explained to her how the scientists managed to clone Mew and how this clone had been determined to take over the world.

After a long and pointless argument, Mr Briney had to admit defeat and got back to Lilycove City.

With this having been her last human contact since then, May had begun the most horrendous, the most awful and the most frightening two months in her entire short life.

On first sight the island had looked like any other island. Then she had entered the forest and had immediately regretted for ignoring the ghost stories. May was certain that if someone should decide to make a quality horror film, it should be set in that very forest.

The large and menacing trees looked really like as if the devil himself had planted them there. Barely any sunlight was able to creep through the thick, dark green leaves; only a few rays of the setting sun had illuminated the area and bathed it in a dim, deep orange glow making the whole atmosphere more eldritch.

May shuddered at the memory.

Those two months proved themselves to be a time span, May wished to erase completely from her memory. She would probably have nightmares about that place.

She had been chased by wild and rabid Pokémon, she had been injured more than once, she had almost died from starvation and if that hadn't been enough torture already she had been buried alive. How? She didn't know. May had only with the help of all of her Pokémon managed to survive. And the worst of it was that she hadn't found nor seen nor had she hoped that Mew was there; she really had been very desperate.

May had been so happy when Mr Briney had arrived to take her back to Lilycove City. In that instant she had completely forgotten about her shredded clothes, her frizzy hair and about the blood and various other ominous fluids that had stained her clothing and skin. She had just wanted to get away from that awful island; she would have even preferred the prisons of Team Rocket, instead of Faraway Island.

May was now on her way back and she couldn't await to get to the headquarters. She made a mental list what she would do when she was back.

1. Yelling, screeching, screaming _and_ roaring at her boss.

2. Getting her Pokémon checked by Professor Oak.

3. Taking a refreshing shower that would last _at least _two hours.

4. Complaining about her boss to a random person.

5. Eating and saving herself from becoming anorexic

6. Taking a _peaceful _nap

And last but not least…..

7. Yelling, screeching, screaming _and_ roaring at her boss.

She grinned already looking forward to her home.

Home…

May's facial expression suddenly became solemn.

That was right. She truly considered the headquarters as her home now and the people that lived there as family; even her boss was some sort of teasing, annoying older brother, whom she never had.

It wasn't like she had any 'real' family left. And her friends from her childhood - when everything had been alright and peaceful - weren't by her side either.

She wished that everything could be like ten years ago, when her only concerns had revolved around winning ribbons in contests and beating her rival Drew.

With a sudden pang of guilt, May realized that her old rival and friend had too rarely crossed her thoughts. She wondered if Drew was okay or even alive.

May knew that Drew was a talented coordinator and trainer but Ash too was (or had been) a talented and skilled trainer; And Ash had been taken by Team Rocket four years ago.

"I shouldn't think about that right now," she muttered to herself fiercely, "I should concentrate on how we will be able to take Team Rocket down. I know we'll make it sometime."

May knew that she sounded absolutely childish. Only because the whole situation seemed to be totally hopeless didn't mean that they had to stop fighting. One had to fight for their rights. She knew that there was a much more comfortable way to live, she had seen may people chose the easy way. Several people she thought of as friends had become members of Team Rocket. Sure, May despised them for having joined Team Rocket only because it was the easier and more comfortable way.

After Team Rocket had succeeded in _taking over the world_ (it sounded so ridiculous to May) they made many restrictions for Pokémon trainers. You were only allowed to catch Pokémon if you had a pass licensed by the Rocket Regime and you were only able to get such a pass if you became a member of Team Rocket and accepted their government. If one should be discovered catching Pokémon without the license an action would be brought against the _criminal_.

In those conditions you were _of course _allowed to have a lawyer. Unfortunately, most of the lawyers were either bribed or they were already members of the Rocket Regime.

In other words someone of full age would most commonly be arrested for approximately five years whereas younger criminals would be punished otherwise. If an underage trainer should be sentenced, his or her Pokémon would be taken away.

Many gym leaders had also joined the Rocket Regime. No, not many gym leaders but _all. _If a gym leader should have refused to join, they were either imprisoned without a trial or in the extreme case annihilated…like...

"He's over there!"

May stilled. The voice came from behind but they were obviously not searching her.

The voice was deep and gruff and it belonged to a man, whom May was surely not too eager to meet.

She ran to a tree and climbed on top of one of the higher branches where she was well hidden behind the leaves in mere seconds. She had become really fit out of necessity over the years.

She craned her neck and tried to see as much as possible without being detected. She was only able to make out a single silhouette of a person, who was running frantically for his dear life. She couldn't make out any definite features but May was certain that the person was male.

"Get him, you morons," another one yelled and this time the voice was a bit higher-pitched and less gruff.

May didn't know if she should help the chased person. She herself was very tired and worn out. Judging by the yells from before, there were at least three pursuers. Neither her Pokémon nor she could take on three people right now. She just hoped and prayed that the person would manage to escape on his own.

May gasped slightly as she saw that the person was chased by five people, four of them looked very bulky and brawny like the shape of the average Rocket Grunt. She couldn't determine if the pursuers really were members of Team Rocket, for it was night and the little sliver of moon didn't gave enough light to illuminate the entire uniform of them.

Now she was certain that she would not interfere. She would never be able to fight against five possible Rocket Grunts. They were probably armed and had their dangerous Pokémon by them as well.

As much as May tried to justify her refraining, the indescribable feeling of guilt and shame didn't vanish but increased.

No, she would _not _leave her safe hiding place. She would wait until the Grunts disappeared. She would wait in complete disregard of the poor man's well being.

She couldn't afford herself being captured by Team Rocket. The odds that they would somehow manage to get much information out of her about how their rebellious, little group functioned, the whereabouts of the headquarters, the names of several members were too high.

BANG

May gasped as she saw the bullet narrowly missing the head of the fugitive. It had fortunately only grazed his cheek. He increased his speed and ignored it or he at least didn't seem to be bothered by it.

BANG

May clamped both of her hands over her mouth to muffle her anxious yelp. His leg was hit by a bullet. He fell to the ground. May watched him with pity and compassion as he dragged himself forwards using only his elbows and the strength of his torso to move.

She didn't know this person but he certainly didn't deserve to be treated like that.

Maybe she could….

No! She will not bring herself and thus her new family in danger. Her decision may seem inhuman but the consequences if she should get down and fight and be eventually caught by them would be far worse. Several people, who were very dear to her, could die. No she couldn't risk it. She would not gamble with the life of many loved ones for the life of a person she did not know.

The Rocket Grunts - now better discernible as Rockets - had reached their target. Four of them surrounded him while the fifth one remained a bit in the distance.

"Did you really think you could escape from us?" a Grunt said mockingly.

The injured man just snorted in reply and May didn't know if he should be congratulated or hit for his defiance.

The Grunt kicked him in the abdomen. May closed her eyes tightly not wanting to see anything of it.

"Scum," another Grunt said.

Although May couldn't see anything, she heard everything they said. Even when she tried to block out any noises by putting her hands over her ears, she heard everything. Every stupid insult from the Rockets, every terrible kick and every painful moan of the injured man.

"Filth."

"Trash."

This continued for a while and May refused to open her eyes. She feared that if she opened them, she either wouldn't be able to restrain the virtuous voice in her head, which would keep telling her to help the poor man or the sight in front of her would shock her so that she would scream.

She wasn't going to open her eyes. She wasn't going to open her eyes. She wasn't going to open her eyes. No. She wouldn't! She wouldn't!

She heard the clicking sound of a gun being readied and she was unable to shut her eyes anymore. She opened them hastily and searched for the injured man. May felt how her eyes began to sting. The man looked awful. He was bloodied all over and now those lowly Grunts - all four of them - stood in front of him ready to shoot him. But they waited…on purpose…they delayed it purposely.

May felt the anger boil inside of her. Now it wasn't a virtuous voice in her head that was barely ignorable but a very vengeful one. Why didn't they just shoot him and get over with it?! How could they enjoy such a terrible thing?!

She was trembling and clutched the branch tightly for support causing her knuckles to turn white. She was on the verge of jumping down. She was on the verge of fighting even though she lacked the strength. A silent tear slipped down her slightly dirty cheek. It was so unfair! She was supposed to wait and watch a human being die! Didn't this waiting make her as bad as the ones who committed the murder?

She was about to leap out of the tree but the injured man jumped onto his feet and punched one of the Grunts, took his gun and shot one of them. He didn't waste anytime to kill the others. He killed three of them. He turned to the one who had been punched to the ground. The Grunt was standing and had another gun in his hand readily pointed at the fugitive with a smirk. The injured man pulled the trigger but nothing happened. The depot was apparently empty.

May cursed silently, although she couldn't help but be a bit appalled at the sudden change in the man. He had seemed so fragile and helpless at first and now he seemed so feral. It was awful and amazing at the same time. How did he manage to stand up despite his wounded leg, and what amazed her more was that he had been able to take three of the Grunts down.

Now it was the Grunt who pulled the trigger and hit the man's shoulder.He fell onto his back with an outcry of pain. The Grunt fired another bullet and hit the man's intact leg.

May couldn't believe it. How could a human being take pleasure in torturing another human being? She couldn't take it anymore. May jumped down and landed in a crouch. She ran over to the scenario and took one gun from the ground that had belonged to a now dead Grunt.

Before the sadistic criminal was able to kill the man, May pulled the trigger and shot him without an ounce of remorse.

She walked over to the injured man, who looked at her with several emotions written on his face, predominantly pain. With an unusually pleased smile the man closed his eyes and his body became limp.

May hurriedly kneeled beside the man and tried to treat his wounds and injuries as much as her scarce amount of disinfection and bandages would allow. She treated the most serious injuries at first and ignored the smaller ones. She took a Pokéball from her pouch and called out her tired Blaziken.

"Blaziken, I'm sorry but we need to bring this man to Lavender Town as fast as possible and I won't be able to carry him," May explained and stared at her loyal Pokémon hopefully.

Blaziken nodded determinedly and hoisted the injured cautiously into its arms looking at May expectantly.

"You have to run as fast as you can. Go on without me. I won't be able to keep up with you," she said.

Blaziken shook its head and refused going without its trainer.

May gazed at it heatedly.

"Blaziken. You have to! Or he will die," she bit out and pointed at the half-dead man in Blaziken's arms. "Do you want to be responsible for the death of a human being?!"

This seemed to jolt Blaziken out of its unconditional loyalty to May and with a last uncertain glance at its trainer it took of with a speed that only a Pokémon like Blaziken could run with.

May sighed and collapsed onto her knees tiredly. She knew that it was unfair of her to frighten her Pokémon like that but a life depended on it. She just hoped Blaziken would arrive early enough and unscathed.

She too should slowly start to make her way towards Lavender Town. It would border on suicide if she should rest in this forest where obviously members of Team Rocket resided nearby. At least the threat was over for now.

Wait! Hadn't there been five people?

"Oh no!" May exclaimed and stood hastily up.

There had been five Rockets and only four were dead. The fifth one had been standing farther away!

May stared with her eyes widened at the direction where the other member had stood. He was still standing there motionlessly. She couldn't see his face, his cap made the upper half of his face be swallowed by the shadows.

Why didn't he help the others? Why was he just standing there and staring dumbly at her?

Although in a panicked state, May could see how different this Rocket was from the other ones. He did not have the shape and height, which was required for a Grunt. Hopefully, he wasn't a higher ranked member.

May wasn't sure but it almost looked like as if the Rocket smirked at her. She squinted her eyes. Yes, indeed. He was smirking at her from the distance. He turned around and vanished into the shadows of the forest.

May stood there staring mutely at the spot where the Rocket had stood seconds before.

What was that supposed to mean?

"Oh no!", May gasped once again in realization. He was going to get reinforcement!

May turned on her heels and dashed through the forest her weariness forgotten completely. Her heart was beating rapidly against her ribcage and pumped the blood (and a fickle but helpful hormone named Adrenalin) through her arteries faster.

She had to get out of here quickly. Ignoring the aching in her body, the protest of her muscles and the tiredness of her body and soul she ran through the forest.

And in her unbelievable hurry she didn't even notice how the sun rose.

* * *

May arrived in Lavender town many hours later than Blaziken. She had stopped as little as possible and had barely eaten anything. She even had almost run every time not daring just to walk in a slow pace.

She didn't know how she managed it but she somehow found the secret entrance to the headquarters, which were actually build under the graveyard of Lavender Town.

She walked the several steps down on shaky legs and had to support herself against the wall. Reaching the long corridor to which many rooms were connected to, May opened the first door and stumbled into the room

She smiled weakly as she saw Paul sitting there, whose constant frown seemed to be wiped away by May's appearance.

"Hey," she called out faintly and before she could take another step forward, she fell onto the floor with a thud.

The last thing she registered was Paul's voice calling for help.

* * *

"Malnourishment, sleep deprivation, dehydration and overexertion."

She knew that voice. It was Nurse Joy but she sounded very worried and a bit angry.

May cracked one eye open. As soon as she opened her other eye, Nurse Joy was already looking down at her.

"You are awake!," she exclaimed with a bright smile, "Do you know how worried we were? You were out for three days," she said reprimanding May.

May's eyes widened as she remembered her Pokémon and the injured man she had saved from the Rocket Grunts.

"My…my…Pokémon?", she rasped her throat was as dry as a desert.

Nurse Joy gave her an assuring smile, "Don't worry they're fine. Blaziken and Beautifly, however, are very worn out and you shouldn't use them in a battle for a while."

The nurse handed May a glass of water, which she gulped down in a few seconds.

"And the man?", May asked feeling better and healthier after the drink.

"You mean the one your Blaziken brought here? He's alive. He's in a coma but none of his internal organs were damaged. Professor Oak together with Dawn is watching over him", the nurse replied as she scribbled something in her notebook.

"The Boss wants to speak to you--" Nurse Joy said but May didn't listen to her any further; she didn't know if it was because she still was tired or only because the nurse had mentioned her boss. All May did was to close her eyes and let sleep take over.

* * *

"So you ran all the way back because you thought the Rocket Grunt was going to call more members in order to chase you?", the Boss said in a mocking voice.

May clutched the armrests of the uncomfortable chair she was sitting on tightly as she had to endure the teasing of her boss. Back then she had thought - or _had not thought_ according to the Boss - that it was a clear sign that the Rocket would be calling reinforcement. Her boss, however, made everything sound ridiculous if he used that mocking tone of his.

"May," he sighed and ran both of his hands through his spiky hair. "Didn't you just tell me that you were so worn out that you had almost fainted?"

May was about to retort and wanted to say that she clearly had not been about to faint but just had to sit down. A mere glance of her boss made her close her mouth and stay silent though.

"What I want to say is that if the Rocket had observed you the whole time, he probably had also noticed how weak you were. Don't you think he wouldn't have been able to take you down by his own?"

May didn't say anything. There wasn't any need to. Her boss was right as he always was.

"It's strange that didn't even help his comrades."

May nodded, "Yes it is strange. The man took three of his own men down and he hid himself, he just watched them die," she said thoughtfully.

"Did you just say that the man your Blaziken carried here killed three of them but was attacked by four? What did happen with the fourth Rocket member?", her boss asked staring at her intensely.

"I killed him," May said bluntly making the eyes of her boss widen considerably in surprise and shock. Just now May realized what she had said.

"I killed him?", she repeated incredulously and looked at her boss as if he would give her a clear answer. She had killed. She had killed a human being. She had killed and hadn't felt any remorse. She had pulled the trigger without regret. She had acted exactly like _them_.

May's hands started to shake. She stared at them with wide, blue eyes. Reality was finally dawning on her.

"I killed a human being," she said incredulously and didn't take her eyes from her hands, from her murderous hands.

The Boss walked over to her swiftly and put a hand on her shoulder in a soothing manner and sighed, "Listen May. There is no need to feel guilty for what you did. You've saved another life. If you hadn't acted the way you did another life would have been taken", he said trying to comfort her.

May shook her head fiercely and locked her watery blue eyes with her boss's dark eyes.

"But…but…," she mumbled unable to form any full sentences.

"You can give me a detailed report later. You need to take a rest," he said and smiled slightly.

May nodded mutely and walked out of her boss's office.

She had never killed before. It was unbelievable. Killing such a sadistic criminal as the Rocket took quite a huge toll on May. But her boss was right! If she hadn't killed him, an innocent man would have died in the most horrible way possible. Still May couldn't shake the uneasiness out of her. The incident was always in front of her eyes: the way she jumped from the tree, how she ran and picked up the gun and how she had pulled the trigger mercilessly without even feeling a little amount of guilt.

Maybe visiting the man she had saved would help her a bit. Professor Oak had told her that he had woken up quite a while ago but May had been too preoccupied with other things and thus hadn't been able to visit him.

Fortunately the man's room wasn't too far from her boss's office, for May didn't know how long her flabby legs would have been able to support her light weight.

May knocked on the heavy-looking door. Surprisingly the door was opened right after her first knock. She winced as she heard a very high-pitched squeal and was hugged tightly by none other than Dawn.

"Oh May. I missed you so much," Dawn exclaimed with a happy and relieved voice.

May just smiled politely, "I missed everyone here too," she said but with less enthusiasm than Dawn.

"Uh, how is he?" May asked.

"Oh you mean Drew! You are here to visit him?"

Drew?

May sighed. Was this the punishment for thinking about Drew so little that the man, whose life she had saved by taking another one's had the same name as her rival from her childhood? The world was too cruel.

"Drew!", Dawn yelled, "Your Knightess has arrived."

"You know that the word 'knightess' doesn't even exist," May said.

As much as she liked Dawn, her cheerful attitude was sometimes very irritating.

With another exasperated sigh, May entered the room. It was now that May could really see the man. In the forest she had been occupied otherwise than taking in some details.

The man was still very young. His skin was pale and stood in stark contrast with his black hair. His green eyes were fixated on her intently as if he was trying to solve something by just looking at her.

"How is your Beautifly doing? I've heard it was injured pretty badly," Dawn asked with worry.

"Beautifly is recovering well. Her injuries weren't anything fatal," May replied with a genuine smile happy that her Pokémon wasn't in danger and healing well.

Dawn looked at the man on the bed and smiled another of her bright smiles. "Drew, meet your knightess in shining…eh…black armour," Dawn said earning an exasperated glance from May, who was starting to regret coming here, despite her good (actually selfish) intentions.

May stepped nearer to the man her hand almost outstretched in a welcoming manner.

"May," the man said making her halt. She regarded the man confusedly, who looked at her knowingly. How did her know her name? Dawn had probably told him everything about May considering her talkative nature.

"Oh, I see Dawn has already told you about me," May said and looked at Dawn, who - surprisingly - shook her head slightly.

"Then how did you know my name?" May asked him dubiously.

Wait! Could it be?! Drew? _The_ Drew she knew. _The_ Drew about whom she had thought lately more often? But why was his hair black? He looked so different. Of course he looked different. Ten years had passed since their last meeting.

Then he did something, which didn't leave any doubts about his identity. With a swift move of his fingers he flicked his hair and smirked an all too familiar smirk.

"I would've never thought you would forget me, May," he said in a smug and cocky voice.

May couldn't believe it. It was really him. The man she initially didn't want to save from the Rockets was Drew.

Dawn was watching them with bewildered eyes and gasped at the unusual scene in front of her.

May felt her eyes getting watery and she blinked. She bit down on her lower lip to keep it from trembling. She balled her hands into fists trying to reduce the shaking of them.

"Drew," she spoke with her voice full of hope as she stepped nearer to his bed with hesitant gaits. "Is that really you, Drew?"

* * *

**Author's Note: **This chapter was initially totally different. I actually wanted to describe May's 'adventures' on Faraway island at first but I decided against it since it wasn't relevant for the plot.

I hope you liked it anyways!!

**Please read and review!!**


	4. Stille

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Pokémon

* * *

**Chapter Four**

**Stille**

"You want me to do what?", Paul asked trying to keep his voice as calm as possible, though given the circumstances and the mission he was to execute with _that person_ as his partner, it didn't make it very easy for him.

The Boss stared at Paul with a rather bored gaze as he listened to his disguised ranting and whining.

"I think you have understood me very well, Paul," the Boss merely said as he leaned back on his leather chair.

"But sir!", the person, who was standing next to Paul, exclaimed but didn't elaborate her thoughts (and possible insults) any further.

The Boss's gaze turned from bored to sympathetic as he looked at Dawn.

"I do not wish this person to be my partner on this mission," Paul said coolly only looking at the boss and completely ignoring Dawn.

Dawn huffed in indignation and crossed her arms over her chest, whereas the Boss's eyes narrowed as he leaned forward - placing his elbows onto the paper-filled table - and placed his hands under his chin.

"This person's name is Dawn, Paul. You should remember your future partner's name. It could be very useful later on," he said fixing Paul with an icy glare, which Paul tried to return but couldn't quite match its intensity.

"I know that you're intelligent enough to know that me and this pers..._Dawn_ are not on good terms, so why do you insist that we should go on this mission _together_?I would be surely able to handle it by myself without her being in the way," Paul said looking only straight at his superior with narrowed eyes challenging him, whilst he completely ignored Dawn in the process as if her opinion didn't matter in the least.

Dawn muttered something incoherent but Paul was neither unable to understand her nor did he care what that person thought about him. He could really care less.

"Do you really want me to be honest?", the boss asked raising his eyebrows questioningly accepting his challenge.

"Of course. Would I have asked else?"

The boss smirked, which was rare and his face displayed such a smugness and know-it-all personality that it made him appear a few years younger; it made him look like a teenager, who was so very convinced of himself.

"Well, to be blunt yet truthful I don't trust you, Paul," he said as the smirk vanished and was replaced with a grim and serious line giving him the look of an authoritative person back, "as I don't trust many people in this organisation completely and you happen to be one of them. And your rude and arrogant behaviour doesn't help you. Dawn however is one of the few people in who I have complete trust in. Dawn will be the one who will supervise you and who will take part in the mission actively."

"Then why do you bother sending me instead of someone of your trusted ones?", Paul asked his voice slightly rising in volume.

"Because of your rudeness and arrogance--" he held a hand up to silence both Dawn and Paul, who were about to voice their confusion about their superior's contradictory reasoning, and continued, "Your behaviour might be very irritating here around but I am sure if you were to pose as a member of Team Rocket it will be quite useful. Besides I know your skills as a Pokémon trainer are not to be underestimated either."

"I and Dawn are to pose as members of Team Rocket. Isn't it going to be already suspicious if we are to join just now. Wouldn't they quickly assume us to be some spies?", Paul asked trying to make the boss's reasoning fail.

"Do you think I'm stupid?" Paul had the urge to answer with a 'yes' but restrained himself. "I have of course considered this aspect. I have already let two fake passes made for you. Passes of Team Rocket that is. You're both just a trainer and a coordinator, who have accepted the Rocket Regime but you wish to take part in their doings actively. You'll try to rise in the ranks and the more information you are confided with the better. And I expect you to act your part very well."

"Rise in the ranks?", Dawn looked at the boss questioningly, "but won't this take very long?"

"Yes. But--" the boss sighed heavily (he obviously was struggling for the right words), "you will have to follow every order you will be given by them. If you fulfil every order you will gain more trust."

"I'm not going to support Team Rocket!"

"Dawn," the boss sighed again having expected such a reaction, "I know this might be very hard for you but you have to consider the future. With the information you two would be able to give us we might have better chances overthrowing the Regime. Right now, we are nowhere as near to that. We only have a few spies but those are not enough and our group isn't very large either so I cannot afford to send so many away on missions that will probably take years. I have struggled much with my decision regarding you both."

Paul only looked at them with an uninterested gaze. He really didn't want to do this. It wasn't the mission itself but it was this very person Dawn, who was standing next to him and was arguing with their boss about the mission itself and not the person with whom she had to endure it.

Even if he wasn't allowed to do this on his own, couldn't he be assigned another partner? They knew so little about the upcoming events and were already arguing about such trivial matters (from Paul's point of view). Paul didn't know if he would be able to endure this person's presence for years.

He always tried not to talk with the people here too much but he especially tried to get out of Dawn's way. She was plainly annoying and her cheerful attitude made her even the more irritating.

He could actually admit that he hated her. It wasn't a neutral attitude, which he had towards most members of the organisation, but it was really hatred or maybe just dislike but Paul was more convinced that it was the former.

"Are you even aware that they kill people?!", Dawn was yelling by now and Paul was trying hard not to cover up his ears because of that horrible sound of her voice.

"Yes, I do know it," was the Boss's eloquent reply, which enraged the girl even more.

Paul closed his eyes and repressed a heavy sigh. He was certain that he was going to suffer from a headache tonight.

And he had to go with her on that suicide-mission! For how many years?!

If Paul hadn't been Paul, he would have yelled such a sentence or one that resembled it loud out. Instead of yelling he interrupted Dawn's furious screeching and spoke in a calm yet angry voice to the boss.

"Sir," he began trying to be more respectful, "I and Dawn will be unable to cooperate. We are like two opposites and we do not like each other. How do you expect this mission to end well. In the end we will with high probability be discovered as double agents. And everything would change for the worse."

"You need to put your personal conflicts aside."

"I'm not going to do Team Rocket's bidding!"

"We cannot stand each other!"

Paul and Dawn had spoken at the same time.

"WOULD YOU BOTH STOP WHINING LIKE LITTLE CHILDREN?!", the boss yelled silencing them instantly and then he continued in a calmer yet still angry voice, "If we all would act on our own desires we would accomplish nothing in the end and we would be like Team Rocket. We haven't formed this organisation in order to have everything the way of each individual member and it had been clear from the first moment on that sacrifices had to be made."

Dawn and Paul were both silent not daring to interrupt their superior.

The Boss looked at them intensely, the expression in his dark brown eyes and the tone of his voice left no room for arguments.

"You both will be partners on this mission," he stilled as he sent a glare to Paul, "and you will exactly do what will be needed to be done," this time he glared at Dawn but with less fury, "you have to put your own wants and personal conflicts aside for the good of everyone. Am I understood?"

Paul once again closed his eyes and this time didn't even attempt to suppress a sigh. He really had to go through this. The Boss wouldn't want and allow an alternative.

He watched from the corners of his eyes as Dawn nodded uncertainly and slowly in response. Her blue eyes were wider than usual.

Paul knew that failure was the only option on this mission. They might as well go to Team Rocket and tell every secret about the organisation.

"Come back again in one hour. I need to cool down. You are just insufferable," the Boss said and hastily stood up. With a few quick strides he left his office and slammed the door shut...loudly leaving Paul and Dawn alone.

The confusion on Dawn's face was very easy to detect and even Paul couldn't hide his own.

They were insufferable? He really shouldn't talk about being insufferable.

"Uh..," Dawn turned uncertainly to Paul trying to break the tense silence.

Paul just sighed (again) and turned for the first time since he had been called into this room to Dawn and looked straight into her wide and irritated blue eyes.

He opened his mouth but closed it quickly again. Without saying anything he left the room with a peeved Dawn.

"The nerve of him!"

* * *

May hadn't felt this happy for a very long time. With a ridiculously huge smile on her face she was almost skipping her way to the room in which Drew resided. The people who went by gave her various sorts of looks when they saw her overly happy face; some were looks of awe because seeing May smile a genuine smile filled with mirth was actually a very rare occurrence nowadays; some gave her looks of total astonishment, some expressed curiosity, some on the other hand were a copy of her own happy-one.

She arrived at Drew's door and not forgetting any manners - despite her hurry - she knocked three times at the door. Hearing Drew's quiet voice calling her in, she opened the door quickly and was with a few fast strides sitting on the chair beside his bed.

He greeted her with a welcoming yet wry smile.

"Hey May. How are you doing today?"

"I'm fine and you?"

He gave a small nod in response, "I feel fine as well, thanks."

After the common pleasantries were exchanged they fell into a silence. May had become accustomed to those rather long periods of silence whenever she had an encounter with Drew, which had been almost every single day since his arrival two months ago. The only time they had had some sort of a fully-fledged conversation was on her very first visit.

It had been like old times again, when they both had been still children with no worries. He had acted like his cocky and overconfident self while she had acted like her naïve and easily offended self. They had started arguing like little immature children in no time forgetting everything around them, although their meeting had started off in a rather awkward manner.

After she had – thanks to his annoying display of his trademark move (the flicking of his hair) – recognized him as her former rival Drew, she had in a moment of shock, surprise and happiness embraced him in a way she had never done to anyone before. She could even recall faintly how a huge amount of tears had rolled down her cheeks. She had still difficulties in finding the reason of her tears but it had probably been an odd mixture of both happiness and sadness.

Happiness because she had met a friend from her childhood, whom she had never believed she would see again. Sadness because of the unfortunate circumstances their reunion had occurred and how she had been almost willing to let him die at the hands of those criminals.

Her guilt of killing one of the Grunts had almost vanished after she had found out that she hadn't merely saved the life of another human being but also the life of a cherished friend. May, however, still felt sometimes a tug at the left side of her chest whenever she remembered that gruesome event.

It was funny and unsettling at the same time how much Drew had changed over the time. Not only physically, which was the funny part (not because he looked funny but because how much he had changed made it funny).

He had grown a lot. Although she had never seen him in a standing position she could easily tell that he would certainly hover over her by more than just a few centimetres. His face was different as well, there wasn't anything round and childish in his face. His facial features had matured considerably, his cheekbones and jawbone were more pronounced making his face masculine. His black hair (she still had no idea why his hair was black but judging from the greenish tint of it, she assumed it must have darkened over the years. Since his eyebrows were the same colour she doubted that they were dyed) was a bit longer, his bangs falling just above his eyes and the other part was just long enough to cover the nape of his long neck. His shoulders were broader and he didn't look like a scrawny, physically weak child anymore.

He would be even more of a ladies' man now that he was older and was more handsome than cute.

As much as he had changed for the better from the outside, it was the opposite regarding his personality.

The change in his character was the unsettling part. Of course, time was a factor, which held the power to make changes happen and the power of ten years was not to be underestimated, especially not if the majority of those years were spent as a captive.

But May certainly didn't like this change in Drew. He was very reserved and quiet, which just didn't fit him. It made him very aloof and unapproachable. She had, of course, tried several times to tangle him into a conversation but she had always failed miserably. His short and half-hearted answers made her really uncertain and she would always find herself becoming more and more uncomfortable in his presence which had been so comforting two months ago. She just gave up. The only thing she could enjoy was his presence without any words being exchanged as perturbing it might be.

She really enjoyed being in someone's presence, who only succeeded in perturbing her. She was losing her last pieces of sanity it seemed.

Trying not to dwell too much on the present she forced herself to recall the day they met face to face and fully conscious. The memory was a bit vague because everything had passed in a blur. At least it seemed like that to May.

* * *

"_Drew," she spoke her voice full of hope as she approached his bed hesitantly, "is that really you, Drew."_

_She bit on her lip again, more forcefully this time, for it would only lead her into a state in which she would be a crying and whimpering wreck, if she were to let her emotions run loose. _

_Drew lowered his hand to his lap and his features softened as his smirk faltered until it became some sort of smile._

"_Yeah, it's really me," he said softly, "Long time no see, heh?"_

"_Drew!"_

_She thought her heart was going to burst from her ribcage because of those many and mixed emotions, which were bordering on painful and agonizing. _

_She ran the last few metres to Drew's side and wrapped her arms forcefully around his waist completely forgetting that he was injured and the fact that she might hurt him with her rather fierce grip on him. __She felt him stiffen but she only accounted this to surprise and not to pain, which also could have been the reason. She ignored Dawn's loud gasp from the door case and just sobbed into Drew's shoulder. _

_May felt Drew relax in her embrace and felt his arms come around her thin frame as he was returning the hug awkwardly. _

"_May," he whispered and tightened his grasp on her, which made her sob only more, although she barely knew the reason for her tears. _

_She didn't know how much they had stayed in this position but as she finally and hesitantly untangled herself from Drew with a last sniff, Dawn wasn't there anymore._

"_I really hadn't expected such a greeting," Drew said in a somewhat arrogant yet amused manner as he fixed his green eyes on her._

_May coughed lightly and avoided his gaze by looking at his hands which were now placed on his lap and which were clenching slightly the blanket. _

"_Well, what did you expect?", she asked looking up to his chin and observed his rather manly pronounced jawline. _

"_Hmm, some sort of yelling and shrieking on how you deserved to win the Ribbon Cup of Johto."_

"_I so deserved to win it!"_

_She had almost forgotten that humiliating experience. She had really lost stupidly to him back then. He had at first been very empathic about her loss but a few weeks after he had went back on being a jerk again and started to tease her about it._

"_Seems like I deserved it more than you since I was the one who actually won it by _beating_ you," he said arrogantly and made that irritating flick of his - now longer - hair, which only added more of an aura of arrogance to him. _

_May was aggravated. how did that guy dare to open up such a wound, which she thought had healed a long time ago?_

"_You..." she began trying to sound threatening._

"_I...," Drew drawled mockingly and failed to conceal another odd smirk._

_Her fists were clenched and were shaking. She wanted to throw something at him, she wanted to yell something at him. __She grabbed his shoulder neither gently nor very forcefully. He winced and his face contorted with pain. __May gasped and withdrew her hand as if she had touched something hot that had burned her fingers. _

"_Oh, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you, I'm sorry," she said apologetically her eyes wide in realization of their current circumstances. _

_What were they...what was she doing? She was arguing with Drew after having not seen each other for almost ten (or was it nine?) years about such a stupid and trivial matter. She was arguing with Drew about such a stupid and trivial matter, after she had witnessed him almost dying. And the fact that she had at first intended to let him die made the guilt – an emotion she had encountered too many times in just a few days – in her rise up (again). _

_It was still edged into her memory. It was something she would be unable to forget, how those Rockets kicked and hit him...exactly like a child would do; a child that was angry at his broken doll, although it had been the very cause of its damaged little toy._

"_Don't worry, I'm fine," he said, although he didn't really sound that fine, "Thank you by the way."_

_May blinked confusedly, "Huh? You're thanking me for hurting you?"_

_Was he a masochist or what?_

_Drew made a sound, it sounded strange. May couldn't help but worry as his shoulders started to shake with his head slumped forward in a somewhat defeated manner while he continued to emit those strange sounds._

_May was about to reach a hand to his uninjured shoulder when he looked up and their gazes locked for the first time making May freeze in her movements. _

_His face was contorted in an amused expression and he appeared to have been chuckling the whole time. He didn't seem to be in pain or anything like that._

"_No," he said wiping a tear of mirth form the corner of his left eye, "I was thanking you for saving me from any more hurt. I mean...," his voice dropped, "I would have been dead, if it weren't for you. You saved my life, May."_

_May withdrew her hand to her side, "Oh, that's what you meant," she smiled slightly unsure of how to act._

"_And I'm no masochist," he said suppressing another chuckle, for which May would have been grateful for, if she hadn't noticed rather too late that she had voiced a part of her thoughts out loud. She blushed lightly and quickly looked away from his face back to his hands. _

_Silence settled between them and neither of them was able to speak up._

* * *

May sighed heavily. If she had known that the damned silence would built a barrier between them, she would have never left his room that quickly two months ago.

She hugged her knees to her chest, which was quite a feat to accomplish considering she was sitting on a small chair. She managed it nonetheless with little difficulty and made herself comfortable.

She focused her tired blue eyes on Drew. He was looking at the door or at least at something that was in the direction of the door. His back was propped up against a huge and fluffy pillow, which Dawn had very readily given to him; his torso was void of any of the bandages (he was healing surprisingly very fast); his legs were covered by the blanket, which he had a habit to clench with his hands.

She wasn't exactly someone, who didn't know how to handle people socially and since Drew was an acquaintance of her it should be the more easy but it certainly was not. She was frustrated. She wanted to know why he was acting that way. She preferred his rude and arrogant behaviour more than his quiet and standoffish persona.

Whenever she would say something random to start a conversation he would find a quick way to make the conversation last not longer than five minutes. She would only manage to talk to him for five minutes, which wasn't long enough.

She scowled but Drew kept his eyes focused on the metallic door as if awaiting someone.

What could she say to get his attention for longer than just five minutes? Maybe she should stop bombarding him with questions (this was something more of Dawn's way to converse anyway). She had to make _him_ ask _her_ the questions. However, he didn't seem to be very interested.

May had to say something. It shouldn't be a question but something more like a statement. A random statement maybe? Well, then it really had to be an extremely random statement. Or should she be more precise? Should she tell him more about their organization and about the other members?

Drew just knew Dawn, Prof Oak and her. He would like to know more about the all of them. Right?

"Paul is really rude, you know?", May said (it was not the smoothest way to start), "he sometimes reminded me of you during the years."

Drew kept his gaze fixed on the door.

"Dawn had mentioned him a few times to me," Drew said just about May was to heave a sigh of great disappointment and resignation.

"She...she did? What did she say?"

"That Paul is absolutely rude and arrogant and that she couldn't stand him."

"Ah. It is really strange how Dawn dislikes him. I mean she is someone, who actually gets along with everyone she meets. And she had known Paul for ten years."

Drew's eyebrows rose but May couldn't make out how much since his hair was covering them (it was unimportant anyway; she had caught his attention, which was important).

"They have known each other for ten years and still hate each other and although they have to stick together to fight against Team Rocket?", he asked with mild surprise and turned his head slightly to look at her.

"Yeah," May replied quietly as she stared into his eyes. No matter how much he had changed overall, his eyes had remained the same, which she was grateful for, since it is said that the eyes are the windows for one's soul. It gave her a strange sort of comfort that his eyes didn't change. If they hadn't changed did that mean that his soul hadn't changed either? She only hoped so. She really hoped that deep down Drew was still the same arrogant and teasing jerk but at the same time the loyal and helpful friend she had come to know and like over time.

"I really have to take you around the headquarters, so that you can meet everyone," May said and smiled a little in order to ease the slightly tense (but more casual than before) atmosphere.

"Yeah. That would be good."

"Oh and by the way. What do you want to do after you're healed?"

May hadn't really thought about that. Would he leave? She certainly hoped he wouldn't. It really would be a pity. Maybe he would join their organization and they would carry missions out together. But what was she going to do if he were to leave? There was a very slim chance that she would be able to see him again. It had taken them ten years to see each other again, which had also happened through sheer coincidence and a huge amount of luck.

"I...don't know," Drew replied clenching the bedsheets tighter in his hands.

"Why don't you stay here? I'm sure it would be okay, besides we could be some sort of partners and carry out missions together."

"Carry out missions together?"

"Yeah, you know the missions The Boss assigns to us."

"The Boss?" Drew said quietly with an unreadable expression and voice as he turned his head away facing the metallic door once again.

May's smile dropped suddenly as she saw that she had lost his attention again. She looked at her watch and she couldn't hide her disappointment anymore.

Their conversation had lasted five minutes.

* * *

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